Let Us, Then, Be Up And Doing

And so, we set out one morning eagerly anticipating our hike up an arduous trail renowned for its challenging assent towards the apex of a local mountain. It required on our part, physical strength as well as endurance in order for each of us to claim its peak. Though the trail’s distance was less than 3km, the climb was an elevation of more than 850m.

As our footsteps weaved their way up the mountain’s slope, they traversed many wooden steps as well as various rocky sections. On approaching the third quarter, legs began to ache, informing a few of us that surely, this part of the trail must be the steepest. Quick glances to the precipitous, rugged landscape that lay shrouded in silence below, cautioned our every tread.

On reaching the fourth quarter, our minds were prodded with a “keep going, you're almost there” kind of command. On successfully reaching the top, we felt in our hearts a certain kind of euphoria, brought on by an enthusiastic sense of accomplishment. Deep within we felt as though we had magnificently positioned ourselves atop the world that surrounded us. When the exhilarating rush of adrenaline finally abated, we congratulated each other on successfully completing the grueling climb known in these parts as 'The Grind'.

A Psalm of Life

What the heart of the young man said to the psalmist

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,

Life is but an empty dream! –

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;

Dust thou art, to dust returnest,

Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,

Is our destined end or way;

But to act, that each to-morrow

Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave,

Still, like muffled drums, are beating

Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,

In the bivouac of Life,

Be not like dumb, driven cattle!

Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!

Let the dead Past bury its dead!

Act,--act in the living present!

Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,

And departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time;

Footprints, that perhaps another,

Sailing o'er life's solemn main,

A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,

Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,

With a heart for any fate;

Still achieving, still pursuing,

Learn to labor and to wait.

– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow